


Movements and Moments

by Skye_Maxwell



Category: Persona 4, Persona Series
Genre: Classical Music, Dorks in Love, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Field Trip, Fluff, Humor, Inspired by Music, Kissing, M/M, One Shot, Romance, Tumblr Ask Box Fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-17
Updated: 2019-05-17
Packaged: 2020-03-06 19:21:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18857476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Skye_Maxwell/pseuds/Skye_Maxwell
Summary: The second-years go on a field trip to the symphony.





	Movements and Moments

**Author's Note:**

  * For [treya_barton](https://archiveofourown.org/users/treya_barton/gifts).



> Happy birthday, Treya. ♥
> 
> Where I grew up, the field trip for all third-graders was to go see the symphony, and they would perform just for us. That’s the first place my mind went when Treya requested 'field trip,' and since I’m a musician and an over-thinker of all things, it just escalated from there. 
> 
> This fic is heavily inspired by _The Planets_ , a symphony which I have now listened to _so many times,_ haha.

“Man, this is gonna be so lame,” Yosuke complained through a yawn, climbing the stairs in front of the concert hall. 

Souji was tired too after a long bus ride with their classmates, but he thought Yosuke should at least give this field trip a chance before he knocked it. 

“I thought you liked music,” Souji said, looking pointedly at the headphones around Yosuke’s neck. 

“I do, but this is music that was written hundreds of years ago by dead guys.”

“They weren’t dead when they wrote it.”

“Very funny,” Yosuke said dryly, holding the front door open for Souji as they brought up the rear of the line and filed into the lobby. 

“You like classic rock. A lot of those guys are dead guys.”

“Okay, but a lot of them could still be alive if they’d made better choices.” 

“Does that make it better?”

“Um, no, actually. It sounded pretty morbid once I said it out loud. But classical music is just kinda stuffy, you know? Like, why are people still listening to it all these years later?”

“Because it’s still valuable?”

“I guess,” Yosuke said, turning to look at Souji. “What, do you secretly like classical music or something?”

Souji shrugged. “I haven’t listened to it enough on my own to really have an opinion. But I’m sure there must be a good reason it's stayed around as long as it has.”

Souji had gone to the symphony a number of times with his parents when he was younger, and he seemed to remember enjoying it when he was little. But as he got older, he started to realize his parents didn’t care as much for the music as they cared about fitting in with a certain tier of society. And even though he would never tell his parents (symphony tickets were expensive, after all), he eventually came to resent getting dressed to the nines to go act prim and proper at concerts where most of the people seated around him weren’t even listening.

Souji did notice over time that the people who seemed to be listening the most closely were in the cheap seats. They stayed seated during intermissions and talked excitedly amongst themselves instead of going to the lobby to buy drinks and make sure their pretentious friends took note of their presence. And when a performance ended, they were the first to jump to their feet, and they clapped the loudest and the longest. 

Souji would have much preferred to sit with people like that. Perhaps then he would have remembered how to enjoy the music. 

“Diplomatic as always,” Yosuke laughed, placing a tender hand on Souji’s lower back but then immediately pulling away as if he had touched a hot stove. “Crap, I forgot,” he said apologetically, pocketing his hands so he wouldn’t touch Souji again. 

They had agreed to not engage in any PDA at school at least, but Yosuke had momentarily forgotten since they weren’t actually in their physical school building. 

“It’s okay,” Souji said, enjoying the rush of warmth that coursed through him even after the briefest touch from someone he loved so much. 

“Dude, you’re giving me the heart eyes again. You’re way more obvious than me! Quit it,” Yosuke said, walking a little faster to catch up with the rest of the line and put some distance between him and Souji. 

Souji chuckled, falling in line behind Yosuke and resisting the urge to trip him just for fun.

Just before they entered the double doors into the theater itself, Souji picked up a program from the top of a stool that Yosuke had unwittingly just breezed by. He thought about picking up a second program for Yosuke, but he figured he’d better just save a tree. In the unlikely event that Yosuke suddenly became interested in this whole thing, he could just read from Souji’s program. 

As they walked into the theater, Souji spotted Yukiko and Chie at the front of the group rushing toward the first row. Earlier when the teachers had told everyone they could sit wherever they wanted, Yukiko had made it abundantly clear to Chie that she wanted to sit close enough that she could see the spit coming out of the spit valves of the brass players. Only slightly disgusted and not at all surprised, Chie had readily agreed to Yukiko’s request as long as they weren’t in the splash zone, because if her best friend wanted to see spit, they sure as hell were going to see spit. 

Souji smiled as he watched his two friends quickly claim their preferred seats and high-five each other, the sound echoing through the entire hall. 

“Our friends are so weird,” Yosuke sighed, evidently watching them too. 

“I’m happy for them,” Souji said, sincerely hoping Yukiko would get to see all the spit her heart desired. 

Souji, however, had a different view in mind. 

“Come this way,” he whispered, grabbing Yosuke’s elbow. 

Yosuke kept looking over his shoulder but stayed quiet as he was led back to a darkened staircase he hadn’t even noticed they’d passed. 

Once they were about halfway up the narrow stairs, Yosuke finally asked in a hushed voice, “Where are we going, Partner?” 

“Up and away,” Souji answered vaguely, continuing ahead of Yosuke. 

“Wait! What’s that supposed to mean?” Yosuke asked at a normal volume now, wondering why Souji was acting weird. “Unless you’re…” 

Souji stopped climbing and turned to look at him, and Yosuke nearly ran into him, wobbling and bracing himself on the handrail. 

“Unless I’m what?” Souji asked.

Not wanting to talk down at Yosuke since he was a few steps higher than him, Souji backtracked until they were on the same step. 

As Souji stepped into his personal space (it really was a narrow staircase), thus confirming Yosuke’s suspicions, Yosuke said, “Unless you’re just trying to take me somewhere dark and isolated so we can… so we can…” Yosuke stuttered, not even able to say  _ kiss _ out loud, because that was just too embarrassing. 

When Souji just stared back blankly, Yosuke took that as further confirmation. 

“Souji  _ Seta,” _ Yosuke chided, trying to play off his embarrassment by teasing Souji. “On a school-sanctioned trip? You’re such a teenage rebel.”

“Rebel? But they said we could sit anywhere.”

Now Yosuke was totally lost. 

“Sit anywhere?”

Souji pointed up the stairs. “I want to sit on the balcony.”

“Oh… That’s it?”

Souji nodded. 

Yosuke heaved a sigh and let his head fall forward onto Souji’s shoulder. 

“Of course that’s it.”

“But since you seem to have other things on your mind…” Souji said, lifting Yosuke’s chin with his fingertips and then pressing a kiss against his lips that made Yosuke fall back against the wall in surprise. 

“Souji!” Yosuke hissed at Souji’s retreating back as he returned to climbing the stairs.

Souji only laughed in response. 

“H-hey! _ I _ didn’t have other things on my mind;  _ you _ did! Get back here!”

Yosuke climbed the remainder of the stairs two at a time, but he was swiftly distracted from pummeling his boyfriend as he emerged onto the balcony. 

“Whoa, you can see everything from up here!” 

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” Souji asked, sounding wistful. 

“Yeah. It kinda reminds me of that one hill where you can see all of Inaba.”

Souji almost snorted. ‘That one hill,’ as if it was some distant place that Souji didn’t think about all the time, as if he hadn’t been there dozens of times with Yosuke and without him (initially to sort out his feelings about him, and then to reminisce about their times together there), as if it wasn’t an incredibly special place where Souji had first started to realize he and Yosuke might actually have a chance…

“Can we really be up here?” Yosuke asked, looking around the empty balcony. 

“I don’t see why not.” 

Feeling a little rebellious anyways, Yosuke laughed happily, bounding over to the middle of the balcony. 

“Where do you wanna sit, Partner?” 

“A couple rows back,” Souji answered, glad that Yosuke finally seemed to be excited about some part of this field trip. 

Once they settled into their seats, Souji thumbed through his program, vaguely recognizing the name of the composer of the symphony they’d be listening to that afternoon. 

“Do you think I could get away with taking a nap up here?” Yosuke asked, already eyeing Souji's shoulder.

“You have to pay attention, Yosuke. We have to write a report on this.”

“We do? Since when?”

“Since forever.”

“Crap. Well, you’re gonna help me, right?”

“I'll help you, but I won't write it for you, so stay awake.” 

“Ugh, forget what I said about you being a teenage rebel. How am I supposed to be your partner in crime if you insist on being such a law-abiding citizen?” 

“I'm not your partner in crime. I'm your partner in… life.” Souji realized it sounded weird as soon as he said it, but he went with it anyways, continuing: “And as your partner in life, I will help you be your best self—a responsible, intelligent, ambitious human being who is perfectly capable of doing his own grade-A work.” 

“Aw man, why do you have to go believing in me all the time?”

“Because I know you, and because I love you.”

“Souji! Quit it!”

“Say you'll write your own paper.”

"But—”

“I love you so mu—”

“I'll write my own paper! And I'll get a better freakin’ grade than you!” Pulling his collar higher and sinking in his seat, Yosuke finished in a mumble, “Now cut it out.”

The tips of his ears were bright red, and Souji wondered if one day Yosuke would let him kiss him there. 

Well,  _ that  _ was an inappropriate thought to be having in public...

Souji really had it bad for Yosuke, he realized for the thousandth time in their relatively short relationship. 

“Quit staring at me,” Yosuke said faintly, kind of looking like a turtle trying to retreat into his shell.

Souji briefly considered responding with, 'But you're so handsome,’ but he thought that would probably be the last straw and would end with Yosuke killing him. 

Instead Souji returned to his program, reading the notes about the composer, Gustav Holst, and the seven different movements of the symphony. 

Yosuke gradually reemerged from his turtle shell, really wishing he wasn't so easily flustered by Souji, and that Souji wasn't so good at using it against him. 

At the same time, he also wished he knew how long it was until this performance was supposed to start, because maybe there was enough time for him and Souji to spend a few minutes back on that dark staircase…

The house lights went down, signaling the beginning of the concert, and Yosuke sighed at the timing. 

_ Figures,  _ he thought, guessing he would have to wait until the walk home from school once they were back in Inaba. 

This was going to be a  _ long  _ performance…

The conductor of the symphony spoke for a few minutes, thanking the school for coming and supporting the arts or whatever, and then she went on to explain some basic audience etiquette and some stuff about the music they were about to play. 

Yosuke was hardly listening, busy daydreaming about that walk home from school. It'd be late afternoon by the time they got back. Maybe they'd be able to catch the sunset, and maybe they could stop by Samegawa, and maybe… 

Yosuke was jolted from his pleasant thoughts by Souji jabbing a knuckle into the side of his thigh. 

“I'm paying attention!” Yosuke whispered hastily, inadvertently admitting his guilt. 

Souji gently shushed him, teasingly squeezing Yosuke’s knee and then quickly withdrawing his hand before Yosuke could swat it away.

The conductor and the musicians poised themselves to begin playing, and Souji found himself holding his breath as a wave of anticipation swept through the entirety of the hall. 

A certain feeling suddenly resurfaced in him—a feeling from a long time ago that would have had little Souji wide-eyed and breathless, clutching his hands at his sides and scooting forward in his seat so that his legs dangled over the front edge.

With one sharp movement the conductor set the symphony into motion, allowing Souji to release his breath as the music—a surprisingly quiet rumble to be coming from a full symphony of players—began to grow and build. Even though the music was quiet and the musicians’ expressions seemed to be mostly neutral, there was an energy emanating from all of them that was honestly almost Persona-like in nature. Souji found it captivating to say the least, and he had to wonder how he ever could have gotten tired of this. 

Souji’s attention, however, was quickly stolen by something even more captivating. 

Yosuke had leaned forward in his seat, head cocked and brow furrowed. He was clearly intrigued, and Souji couldn’t help but be intrigued in return. He leaned back in his own seat, smiling contently at the perfect view he had of the side of Yosuke’s face and the different emotions that were crossing it.

Yosuke’s gaze flitted back and forth across the stage between the different sections of the symphony before latching onto the strings section. He wasn’t an expert on classical instruments, but he was pretty sure they were using the wrong side of their bows, rhythmically bouncing the stick side on their strings and producing a distinct sound as wood repeatedly struck metal. 

He wasn’t sure what was happening; this definitely didn’t sound like the classical music he heard in elevators or when he was on hold. It sounded more like something he would hear on a movie soundtrack. It was quietly intense and full of trepidation, and then it started to build, growing louder and more raucous. 

About a minute into the piece, the music exploded and made Yosuke jump, and Souji had to hold back a laugh. 

Souji was sure that Gustav Holst, if he was still alive, would have loved Yosuke; Yosuke openly reacted to every emotion and nuance of the music exactly as the composer must have intended. 

When the music was uncertain and tense, Yosuke’s whole posture would stiffen. When the music was soft and delicate, Yosuke would lean in and squint, as if that would help him hear better. When the melody bounced from section to section, Yosuke’s gaze would chase after it, like a cat’s gaze chasing the red dot of a laser pointer. 

Toward the end of the first movement, Yosuke’s expression became increasingly concerned, until the music exploded once more in punctuated bursts of sound that had Yosuke’s lips parting in wonder.

The movement ended abruptly, and Souji barely had time to intercept Yosuke’s hand before he started clapping. 

“You don’t clap between movements,” he whispered to a slightly dazed Yosuke who didn’t understand why he was being stopped from showing his appreciation. 

“Movements?” Yosuke whispered back, letting his hands fall back down. 

“The sections are called movements. It’s one symphony with seven sections. You’re not supposed to clap between the sections. The conductor said that at the beginning.”

“My bad,” Yosuke said faintly, still too caught up in what he had just experienced to get defensive. 

The second movement began, and Yosuke’s attention zeroed right back in.

Throughout the next three movements, Souji continued to watch Yosuke closely (who was blissfully unaware of the very targeted surveillance), only looking away occasionally to reference his program, comparing the names of the movements and their descriptions to what he was hearing and what Yosuke was emoting. 

Sometimes Yosuke would try to tap his foot to the rhythm of the music like he did when he was listening to his headphones, but then the rhythm would change and his foot would stutter and then fall back to the ground. Then he would give this little grin, like the music had just said,  _ ‘Got you!’  _ and he had no choice but to respond with,  _ ‘Yeah, you got me.’ _

Once in a while Yosuke’s hands would start moving at his sides, subtly emulating everything from the conductor’s gesticulating hands to pressing down keys to striking the big timpani drums with a mallet. 

It was the most endearing thing Souji had ever witnessed; if he hadn’t already fallen for Yosuke months prior, he would be falling for him right now, throughout the duration of this performance. 

Yosuke was completely swept up by the magnificence of the fourth movement, and once it ended with a single, triumphant burst, Souji had to use both hands to stop Yosuke from jumping to his feet and applauding. 

“It’s not over,” Souji whispered urgently, tugging at Yosuke. 

“It’s not?” Yosuke asked, falling back into his seat with a thud. “But… that was so good. It’s not fair!”

He was actually  _ pouting _ because he couldn’t clap immediately. Souji swore some of Yosuke’s self-awareness had gotten too close to the edge of the balcony at some point and fallen off. Souji understood Yosuke’s frustration, though; Yosuke was feeling something strong and wanted to express it. That was how they had finally gotten together, after all. 

While Souji might have been content to sit around contemplating and pining away for the rest of his life, once Yosuke realized the depth of his feelings for Souji, he had to express himself—he had to say something, he had to _ do _ something. 

That was one of the (many) things Souji loved about Yosuke. If nothing else, it certainly made the confession process easier on him. All he had to do was return Yosuke’s sentiments and not have a heart attack, which he was proud to say he accomplished. (He had survived the Shadow World  _ and _ a surprise love confession from Yosuke Hanamura; he was truly invincible.)

Souji slipped his hand into Yosuke’s, partially to restrain him and partially to calm him down. 

“I know, but you can applaud all you want at the end.”

“Fine,” Yosuke said, disgruntled but resigned to the invisible rules of this concert hall. 

He then lifted Souji’s hand and examined it for a moment as if he was just now fully realizing it was there, and then he threaded his fingers in between Souji’s, the way he typically preferred to hold hands. 

Yosuke felt a sudden wave of tiredness that he couldn’t explain, but then the next movement started, piquing his curiosity and giving him the energy he needed to stay engaged. 

Souji tried his best not to stare at Yosuke the whole time since he had already dedicated more than half of the symphony to that. He couldn’t help the occasional glance, especially when the music was doing something particularly interesting and Yosuke would squeeze his hand accordingly, but for the most part Souji was able to focus on watching the stage. 

He eventually allowed himself to become completely immersed in the whole experience, and he found it to be remarkably cathartic; rarely did the wheels in his head stop turning enough to allow him to be completely present and enjoy the current moment simply for what it was. 

The vast size of the hall, the rich sounds washing over him, the flow of energy from the players through the audience and back, the warmth of Yosuke’s hand clutching his, the thumping of his heart in his chest as it synchronized with the music, the vague feeling that life itself  _ had _ to have some sort of meaning and that it was vast and beautiful and immeasurable— _ all _ of it was part of this moment in time, and it was all Souji could ask just to be part of it, to fully exist within it, to see it through to its end. 

At some point Souji folded his program in his lap and set it aside, no longer keeping track of exactly where they were in the music.

It felt like they had been there forever (in a good way) when the music became mysterious and haunting, but gently so. It felt like it wanted to be ominous but was actually rather innocuous, like a friendly ghost. Souji wondered if Yosuke was picking up the same vibe and wished he could ask him, but then his attention was redirected as he began to hear voices—women’s voices singing, distant and otherworldly. There were no singers onstage, though.

Souji was a little concerned for his sanity until he noticed Yosuke’s eyes darting back and forth, trying to find the source of the voices as well. That made Souji feel better at least, so he just squeezed Yosuke’s hand and gave him a look to assure him that he heard the voices too. Yosuke seemed to settle down at that, giving Souji a dreamy, unfocused look and stroking Souji’s hand with his thumb. 

Souji suddenly felt  _ safe, _ not that he had felt particularly unsafe before. He wouldn’t have been able to explain if asked why, but in that moment as Yosuke’s eyes peered into his, he felt safe.

They stared at each other unblinkingly for a few seconds, and as if on cue, they both looked forward again, as aware of each other as they were of the music coming to an end. 

The overall volume gradually decreased, and some of the musicians started to put their instruments down, apparently done with their part in the performance. Eventually the only movement onstage was the conductor just barely moving her arms, and there was no sound left—not from the audience nor the stage—except the invisible voices, repeating the same two eerie chords over and over again with a pregnant pause between each pair of chords. 

The voices too began to fade, until both Souji and Yosuke were leaning forward and straining to hear them. When they could no longer hear anything, they looked to the conductor, whose baton remained calmly yet authoritatively poised in the air, as if she alone could still hear the voices, and this piece was not done until she, in all her wisdom, deemed it to be so. 

Her posture finally relaxed and the baton came down, and just like that, it was done. 

Souji was left with a mixture of conflicting emotions. He wanted the music to keep going and to find more closure than just mysteriously drifting away. He wanted the whole symphony to just start over, so he could really pay attention and pick up the things he missed the first time, or maybe just stare at Yosuke again the whole time. He wanted to go home and take a nap and just let his mind rest. He wanted to sit here beside Yosuke on this balcony and hold his hand forever… 

Yosuke pulled his hand from Souji’s, and the moment—this encapsulated time together in this space—was over. 

But as Yosuke enthusiastically jumped to his feet and began to applaud, Souji realized, a new moment had begun. 

Life was a series of moments, just like the movements of the symphony. Each one had to be experienced for what it was. There wasn’t a perfect storyline with a conclusive ending, but that wasn’t the point. Each movement and each moment had its place, had its own unique character, had its ups and downs, had its value. 

And if there were only so many moments in a lifetime, from now on, Souji wanted to share each of them with Yosuke. 

Including this one. 

Souji rose to his feet, as if pulled up by the invisible hands of the invisible voices, and he took his place at Yosuke’s side, applauding until his hands hurt. 

The musicians were all standing and bowing, smiling and acknowledging their audience with a glow that wasn’t just from the bright stage lights. 

Then, a line of women in long black dresses began to file onto the stage behind the instrumentalists. 

“That’s where the voices came from! They were all hiding offstage!” Yosuke said with an awed cackle, lightly elbowing Souji. “Isn’t that cool, Partner?”

Souji smiled, no longer missing the music now that he could hear Yosuke’s voice, fraught with life and joy, at full volume again. 

“Very cool,” Souji agreed, clapping with renewed vigor for the singers, who were now all visible and taking their bows. 

Souji and Yosuke were the last ones standing and the last ones to stop clapping, and by then Souji’s heart was full nearly to bursting. He picked up his program and folded it rather unevenly before jamming it into his pocket and then grabbing Yosuke’s shoulders to push him forward. 

“Whoa, what’s the hurry, Partner?” Yosuke asked, looking over his shoulder. 

“I want to make a moment with you on the staircase,” Souji said, his breath caressing the back of Yosuke’s neck and making him shudder. 

“Make a moment?” 

“It's a long ride back to Inaba. I want to kiss you now before we have to rejoin the rest of the group.”

“Geez, Partner! Don't tell me you had that on your mind this whole time!”

“Not the  _ whole _ time,” Souji said, but then he felt like that wasn't exactly the whole truth. “I mean, it's always in the back of my mind…”

“You dog,” Yosuke chuckled as they arrived at the top of the staircase, pulling Souji close by his inordinately high shirt collar. 

“I'm more of a cat person,” Souji said, wrapping his arms around Yosuke's waist.

“You don't say!” Yosuke said exaggeratedly. “That is quite the surprise for everyone!”

Souji moved in toward Yosuke's face to quiet him. 

He whispered, “Well  _ everyone _ is gonna hear you if you don't be quiet.”

“You gonna make me be quiet?” Yosuke asked, teasing Souji’s bottom lip with the tip of his thumb.

“Yeah,” Souji breathed before pushing his lips against Yosuke's. 

Yosuke immediately made a guttural, pleased noise in the back of his throat, and then another.

Souji pulled back to shush him. “You're so noisy.”

“I was just quiet for like an hour, and you're  _ touching _ me, and I really don't know what the hell you expected from m—”

Yosuke tried his damnedest to not make too loud of noises while Souji kissed him with a vigor that Yosuke couldn't quite place but he enjoyed all the same. 

They could hear the stream of their schoolmates passing by the bottom of the staircase, and they only pulled away from each other once that noise completely died down. 

They lingered there a little longer, letting their hearts take a break before they had to catch up with the rest of the group. 

Another moment over, and another one beginning. 

They rushed into the lobby, only to see that it had already cleared out. Once they got outside, they jogged down the front steps of the concert hall, relieved to see that the buses were still loading.

Once they got on their assigned bus, which was only half full, they saw that everyone had packed in the back. Since Souji and Yosuke were the last ones on, they sat right behind the driver, which allowed them to sit as close to each other as they wanted and hold hands without anyone bothering them. 

“There you are,” Yukiko said, placing a hand on Yosuke’s shoulder and making him jump. 

“Oh h-hey, Yukiko! Didn’t see you there!”

“We were sitting in the back with everyone else until you two came on. Chie wanted to know if you’d like to come sit with us,” she explained before bending and staring very pointedly at the boys’ clasped hands. “But I think I like your strategy better.”

“Our strategy?” 

Yukiko turned and made a motion for Chie to come forward, and then she slid into the seat across the aisle from the boys. 

Chie made her way up to them, asking, “What? Did these punks not want to sit with us?”

“Who’re you calling a punk?!” Yosuke shouted. 

_ “You, _ punk!” Chie shouted back, whacking Yosuke in the back of the head. 

“Yosuke…”

“Chie…”

The two of them calmed down at the behest of their quieter counterparts, and Chie plopped down beside Yukiko with a huff. 

“Anybody wanna explain why we're sitting in the very front of the bus?” 

Yukiko tugged on Chie’s jacket sleeve and pointed at Yosuke and Souji.

Once Chie saw their joined hands and how they were sitting, she immediately understood. 

When it came to Yosuke and Souji's relationship, Chie took her role as one of their official secret-keepers very seriously.

“Got it,” she said easily, putting her hands in her jacket pockets and resting her head on the back of the seat.

“So, what’d you think of the symphony?” she asked.

Yosuke started enthusiastically, “I thought it was—”

“Not you! I was talking to Souji.” 

“How the hell was I supposed to know you were talking to him when you didn’t address him?!”

“Well, you shouldn’t have just assumed I was talking to you! Everything’s not about you, Yosuke!”

Yukiko suddenly leaned forward so she could see Souji and recalled fondly, “We got to see a lot of spit! It was hilarious. They just dumped it on the floor! There were puddles of it everywhere!”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” Souji replied happily, leaning forward to see her too. “I’m glad you got to see what you wanted.”

“I mean, the music was good too, of course! It was quite a riveting performance. But the spit was the icing on the cake.”

“That's one disgusting cake,” Yosuke remarked, wishing Souji wouldn’t encourage certain parts of Yukiko’s weirdness. 

“As long as you’re happy, Yukiko,” Chie said, yawning and looking like her energy was fading fast. “I feel bad that I almost fell asleep toward the end, though. Not that it wasn’t good, because it totally was! But I don’t know, something about the whole thing just made me feel weirdly calm? Even when it was all loud and exciting, it was like… like waves crashing! Quiet then loud, but calming overall. Yeah, that’s it.” 

“That’s a good comparison, Chie,” Yukiko said proudly. “You should put that in your paper.”

“Ugh, don’t remind me of the stupid paper!” 

“And you?” Souji asked Yosuke.

“What about me?”

“What did you think of the symphony? You seemed excited to say something about it.”

“I mean, it’s no big deal—nothing I need to waste your time with.”

Chie asked, “But you were willing to waste  _ my _ time with it?!” 

“Your time isn’t worth anything!” Yosuke shot back. 

_ “You’re _ not worth anything!”

“Yosuke!”

“Chie!”

“Sorry,” they both apologized. 

“Apologize to  _ her.” _

“Apologize to  _ him.” _

Yosuke and Chie sighed, way too used to this routine by now. 

“I’m sorry, Chie,” Yosuke said robotically. “Your time is valuable. If you don’t want to hear my opinion on the symphony, that is a valid option that I will respect.”

“I’m sorry, Yosuke,” Chie said with the exact same tone. “You’re not worthless. You’re the opposite of worthless.”

“Full of worth!” Yukiko chimed in. 

“And I shouldn’t dismiss your opinions or your right to express them. I would love to hear what you thought of the symphony,” Chie finished boredly. 

“Reconciliation is so beautiful,” Souji said, sounding just as bored but actually meaning his words. “Go ahead, Yosuke. I could tell your thoughts were racing the whole time we were in there.”

“Heh, nothing gets by you, Partner. Well, nothing about me, anyways. You sure you wanna hear all of it?” 

_ “No,” _ Chie said under her breath, earning a sharp elbow from Yukiko. “Ow!”

“Every last bit of it,” Souji replied. “It’s a long ride home, and for you, I have nothing but time.”

“Gross,” Chie remarked quietly, but Yukiko let that one slide. 

Looking from Souji’s encouraging face to Chie’s dread-filled one, Yosuke chuckled and said, “All right, but you asked for it!”

Yosuke started from the very beginning, and at first, all three of his friends were actually listening attentively to his animated descriptions of the music. 

“There was one movement that sounded like there was this crazy war going on, and one that reminded me of you, Partner, and one that reminded me of Teddie, but like if he was starring in a black and white cartoon, and one that was like this epic sci-fi western, like full-on space cowboy…” 

Chie eventually fell asleep, tired from the long day but also calmed by the ups and downs of Yosuke’s voice, which had the same effect on her as the crashing waves of the symphony. Her head fell onto Yukiko’s shoulder, and she snored gently there the rest of the ride home. 

Yukiko continued to listen to Yosuke for most of the ride while she stared out at the blurred landscape beyond her window, only starting to nod off toward the end of the ride. 

Souji, however, stayed wide awake the whole time, tuned into Yosuke’s every word. 

He was seriously amazed at how much Yosuke remembered and how he was able to keep the movements separate in his head. Even though Souji was the one who had actually looked at the program, he had trouble remembering which movement was which; after a while, they all started to blend together. 

After Yosuke shared his opinion on each movement, Souji would read the program’s description of it out loud, explaining how each one was based on a different planet and how Holst was inspired by the effect each planet was said to have on the psyche. 

“It’s called  _ The Planets? _ I knew it sounded space-like!” Yosuke proclaimed. 

It turned out Yosuke was pretty on point about the composer’s intention for most of the movements, much to his satisfaction. 

Yosuke was really utilizing the extents of his vocabulary in his attempt to properly describe what he had heard and felt (“a frenzied havoc that snowballed,” “vacillating between carefree dawdling and unapologetic grandeur,” “impending doom that settled into an almost ethereal state,” “foreboding but not alarmingly so…”), and Souji honestly found it really hot. 

Anyone who thought his boyfriend wasn’t smart was wrong. 

And anyone who thought his boyfriend wasn’t attractive was also incredibly,  _ outstandingly _ wrong, but he was okay with being the only one who was privy to just how attractive Yosuke was. 

“So which one was your favorite?” Souji asked after they had made their way through all seven movements. 

“Um, the second one, I think,” Yosuke decided after a moment of contemplation, still remembering the movements by order instead of by their names or planets. “I mean, I really liked the big, impressive ones, like the first one and the fourth one, like  _ really _ liked them, but the second one just kinda stood out for the opposite reason, you know? It didn’t need to scream about how great it was. What was the second one called again?”

Souji looked to his program. “The second one was ‘Venus, Bringer of Peace.’ Yeah, I’m surprised you’d like that one more than Mars or Jupiter.”

“I am too, honestly. But I don’t know, the feeling I got from it was just really different from all the other movements.”

Souji suddenly remembered, “Hey, you said one of the movements reminded you of me.” 

“Oh yeah, I did.” 

“Which one?”

“The one that reminded me of you was…” Yosuke realized, “…the second one.” 

Souji bit his lip. “But that’s your favorite one.”

Yosuke laughed nervously. “I mean, that wasn’t a conscious thing. It’s not like I was all, ‘This one reminds me of Partner, so now it’s my favorite’ or anything…”

“That makes it even better,” Souji said, picking up his phone from where it was sitting on the seat beside him and hitting the stop button. 

Staring as a finished audio file popped up on Souji’s screen, Yosuke asked, “Have you been recording me this whole time?!”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” 

“Your report is basically written now. All you have to do is actually, you know, write it down. And I think you really will get a better grade than me.”

“Oh man, you’re so smart! Thanks, Partner! But, uh, you could have told me you were recording me…”

Souji shrugged, pulling the slider on the file and hitting play and pause a few times until he was at the part where Yosuke was talking about the second movement.

“What are you doing?” Yosuke asked. 

Instead of replying, Souji hit play, and Yosuke’s garbled, tinny voice came through the cheap speakers on Souji’s flip phone: “…such a contrast to the first movement, like the calm after a storm, except it’s like a tentative calm that could only be made possible by all the destruction before it. But sometimes it would lose that undercurrent of uncertainty, and that’s when it was most beautiful, I think—when it was most sure of itself. It had this sweet, hopeful, innocent quality that made you forget the storm even happened, and then you were just swept up in this lush landscape of sound. It was relatively quiet, but so profound—” 

Face burning, Souji hit the stop button, too overwhelmed to keep listening. 

Hearing the way Yosuke described that movement again with such awe and admiration… there was no way words like that could possibly be associated with himself.

When he looked to Yosuke though, whose eyes were a little watery, he felt his heart leap painfully inside of him. 

“That’s you,” Yosuke whispered. “That’s totally you.” 

“It’s not  _ totally _ me,” Souji tried to contend, not sure why he was so embarrassed by his boyfriend’s indirect praise. 

Yosuke shook his head, mostly lost in his own thoughts. “Of course it’s my favorite. It’s not weird at all. Of course I love it. It’s  _ you.” _

No one else on the bus was paying attention, but Souji wouldn’t have cared even if they were, gently cupping the side of Yosuke’s face and giving him a long, tender kiss that somehow blew those heated kisses from the staircase out of the water. 

Yosuke pulled away smiling, and he said in a serene, hushed voice, “Souji, Bringer of Peace.”

Souji said faintly, “Quit it.”

He was wearing a similar smile to Yosuke’s, but he was also very much past his praise limit for the day. 

The only viable strategy was to turn the tables, and so he did. 

“You know which movement was my favorite?” Souji asked, trying to stay focused even as Yosuke maneuvered his arm behind Souji’s back and pressed closer against his side. 

“Which one?”

“The one that reminded me of you.”

“And which one was that?” Yosuke asked, sounding somewhere between amused and intrigued. 

“Jupiter.”

“Which one was Jupiter again?”

“The fourth one. The one where I had to stop you from leaping up and clapping.”

“The space cowboy one? Really?” Yosuke laughed. 

“It’s called ‘Jupiter, Bringer of Jollity.’ And jollity is like, liveliness and cheerfulness. Fun. Celebration. Joy.”

“Okay, you’re definitely just trying to flatter me to distract from wha—”

“That movement…” Souji interrupted, remembering this movement better than any of the others, “…it was, at its core, an anthem. It may have come across as cocky at first, but then you realized that it was just proud, and rightfully so. There were moments where it was choppy and fragmented, but then there were parts where it was sweeping and put together. It could be lighthearted one moment and full of gravity the next, but in the end, it refused to apologize for itself, and it was triumphant. It won you over, it made you celebrate with it, it burst in and changed everything, all with a welcoming smile that made you feel like you could conquer the entire world together…”

“Partner… I don’t think you’re talking about Jupiter anymore…”

“I’m talking about  _ you. _ I’m in love with you!” Souji abruptly declared, followed by his own surprised laughter. 

Souji had known he loved Yosuke and had told him a number of times before, but somehow this little addition to the words made it all feel so much bigger. 

‘I love you’ was a feeling, but ‘I’m in love with you’ was a state of being. 

Souji was  _ in _ love; he was surrounded by it, inundated with it, living inside it. 

It was part of him; it had its own energy within him.

He was  _ in love _ with Yosuke. 

Outside the windows, the golden hour had set in, bathing the increasingly familiar landscape before them in warm light. 

“Before we walk home, can we stop by Samegawa?” Yosuke asked softly, searching Souji’s face and smoothing away a tear from the corner of Souji’s eye with his thumb. 

“Sure,” Souji said so quietly he could barely even hear himself. “Any particular reason?”

Yosuke nodded. “To kiss.”

It took everything in Souji not to yell at the driver to step on it, traffic laws be damned.  

When they finally got to Samegawa, the sun was just beginning to set, and they kissed until the sun had dipped well below the horizon. 

And so, thanks to their field trip to the symphony, Yosuke came away with a new genre of music to love, and Souji came away with countless new reasons to love Yosuke. 

He was  _ in _ it, and if the way Yosuke kissed him and held him and whispered his name over and over again was any indicator, Yosuke was too.

**Author's Note:**

>  _“The Planets,_ Op. 32, is a seven-movement orchestral suite by the English composer Gustav Holst, written between 1914 and 1916. Each movement of the suite is named after a planet of the Solar System and its corresponding astrological character as defined by Holst. From its premiere to the present day, the suite has been enduringly popular, influential, widely performed and frequently recorded.” -from Wikipedia


End file.
